


Aging With Mistakes

by VTsuion



Series: Between the Voyages [7]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aging, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Break Up, Getting Back Together, M/M, Memory Loss, Star Trek I: The Motion Picture, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country - Freeform, Vulcan Mind Melds, old married spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTsuion/pseuds/VTsuion
Summary: Kirk and Spock’s story doesn’t end when The Original Series does. This is the (rather tumultuous) continuation of their relationship over the course of the movies, told in a series of off-screen moments.





	1. The Motion Picture

**Author's Note:**

> After rewatching the show, I watched all of the movies for the first time. It was a ride, to say the least, and I just had to fill in the gaps.

“You treacherous-” Admiral James Kirk shouted. “You wanted my command all along! Was this your plan, strand me on Earth so you’d be next in line for a starship?” He pounded his fists on the table.

“Jim,” Spock protested, his voice hardly more than a whisper, “You know I have never desired command.”

“Liar! Stab me in the back first chance you get! Get out! I never want to see you again!” Jim roared.

Spock searched his former captain’s eyes for any trace of regret, but it seemed any affection Jim had once held had all burned away in desperation as months passed without hope of an active commission. There was nothing more Spock could say, so he obeyed his captain’s orders - he turned and left.

* * *

Jim waited by the door of Mr. Spock’s temporary quarters on the newly reconstructed  _ Enterprise _ . He took a deep breath to steel himself and hit the buzzer. His heart hammered in his chest as the seconds dragged on. He wondered if maybe Spock was sleeping or meditating or wasn’t in - maybe he ought to drop by later. Or, given everything that had happened, maybe Spock didn’t want to talk to him at all. Jim certainly wouldn’t have wanted to speak to himself after everything he’d said when they last saw each other, more than two years ago.

Jim had almost convinced himself to leave again when he heard Spock answer from inside, “Enter.” His voice was flatter and deeper than it had been in all the time Jim knew him, but there was no doubt who it was.

The door slid open and Jim stepped inside, his chest twinging with nerves. Spock was back in Vulcan robes, seated on the bed with his legs crossed in front of him to meditate.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Jim said with an attempt at a smile.    
“It’s nothing urgent; I can come back later.” He turned to leave.

“The interruption is not an unwelcome one,” Spock replied, his voice still inhumanly stiff.

Jim turned back to face him with a nod. “Good, good.” He rubbed his hands together for something to do with them. “How are you doing? Recovering from the mind meld with V’ger?”

“My recovery is progressing as expected,” Spock replied. “To what do I owe this honor, Admiral?” His eyebrows rose as he spoke. The question couldn’t have been serious, but his lips remained pressed together in a thin line.

“Well,” Jim began, but he didn’t know where he was going. He took another deep breath to steady his nerves. “I owe you an apology.”

Spock quirked a skeptical eyebrow at him as though to ask, “Really?”

Jim smiled despite himself at the familiar gesture. “I know,” he said. His expression turned serious. “I was so desperate to get back into space I forgot everything else. When you were given a captaincy, I couldn’t see beyond my own jealousy. I don’t blame you for not wanting to see head or tail of me after all that. And by the time my head cooled enough for me to realize I’d made a mistake, you were already on Vulcan.”

Spock remained silent, watching the admiral impassively as he spoke.

“I want you to know,” Jim continued, “That you’re the most intelligent, most logical, most loyal man I know. You deserve a lot better than a prematurely aged admiral who’s too blind to see even that.”

Spock cocked his head to the side and considered Jim’s words. He seemed to take his time mulling them over.

Finally, Spock said, “I am pleased that you have seen the error of your ways. I have also learned from my mistake. In our years on the  _ Enterprise _ together you showed me the value of human emotion and in the subsequent months on Earth you showed me the accompanying dangers. Your emotion was what made you great, but it also destroyed you. After seeing you in such a state, I concluded that emotion was not worth the risk and returned to Vulcan to spare myself your fate. I was wrong. Had I completed the Kolinahr, I would only have been left empty and meaningless like V’ger.”

A spark of raw hope lit up Jim’s tired eyes. “And what now? You know my feelings for you couldn’t change if I tried, and I don’t particularly want to try.”

Spock took Jim’s words in and seemed to consider them. Jim searched his eyes for some indication of what he was thinking, but maybe it had just been too long. 

At long last, Spock said, his voice slow and hesitant, “I am no longer accustomed to expressing emotions as I once was. My time on Vulcan changed me as your time on Earth changed you. We will not be able to return to what we were.”

Jim frowned, but nodded in acknowledgement. “I know.” Still, his eyes shone with determination as he continued, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to create something new. I still need you; I always have and always will. I still want you by my side, if that’s where you want to be.” He hesitated. “And if we end up stuck back on Earth, well, the two of us have gotten out of worse situations, haven’t we, Mr. Spock?” He flashed Spock a smile.

Spock considered his words for a moment before he asked, “What if I am assigned a captaincy?”

Jim frowned. He answered, his expression set, “Then I’ll follow you out there somehow, on a ship of my own or as a senior advisor, whether it takes weeks or months or years, it doesn’t matter. I’ll join you out there.”

Spock nodded in assent. “In that case, I can conclude that it is only logical for me to remain by your side.”

Jim grinned at him, a wide open smile that almost made him look ten years younger, though the past two years had still left their indelible mark.

Jim was certain that he saw the corners of Spock’s lips curve upward in response. Slowly, Spock extended a hand toward Jim, his first two fingers out, inviting Jim to do the same.

Jim’s eyes widened in surprise and he was nearly shaking with relief as he extended his own hand to meet Spock’s.

The tips of their fingers gently brushed against each other. Jim almost felt a wave of warmth traveling up his arm. A shiver ran down his spine even though they were just barely touching. Spock’s eyes fell closed as he was immersed in human emotion. Spock was almost smiling by the time their fingers separated and he opened his eyes to meet Jim’s gaze.

Whatever came, they would face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest question I had after watching The Motion Picture was how it all happened. How did Kirk and Spock go from a happy couple to the estranged mess that they are at the beginning of the movie? I was especially perplexed by how Spock’s entire arc over the course of The Original Series, of coming to accept his human side, had been reversed so suddenly. Since Kirk’s decline after being made an admiral and stuck on Earth made a little more sense to me, that’s where I decided to start, and this is what I came up with.
> 
> I've channeled some of my further thoughts and feelings about Kirk and Spock's gradual reconciliation after The Motion Picture into a longer fic, [We Know That We Need, But Not What](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376811/chapters/48325762).


	2. The Saga of Spock

Admiral James T. Kirk’s second five year mission came to an end with almost as much fanfare as his first. There were promotions all around - aside from the admiral who had received his premature promotion the first time - including a hard won captaincy for First Officer Spock. With Admiral Kirk’s blessing, Captain Spock returned to the stars mere months later on a ship of his own, and after less than a year, the admiral and his  _ Enterprise _ followed.

But the admiral had already been given one full reprise and the duties afforded to him by his rank would not be staved off again. His next mission was a short one and they only got shorter as the tether tying him to Earth grew tighter and tighter.

A small blessing: Captain Spock, despite the admiral’s protest, did not accept another exploratory mission when his first ended; instead he opted for a conveniently Earthbound station as an instructor at Starfleet Academy. But Spock still spent more time running training exercises in the solar system than teaching on Earth, and so their apartment in San Francisco remained primarily Admiral Kirk’s.

The admiral sat in his usual chair by the fireplace, the heat turned almost all the way down without Spock there to enjoy it. The book Spock had given him earlier that day sat on the table, unopened, beside the reading glasses from Dr. McCoy. Captain Spock was up on the  _ Enterprise _ already, preparing it for the admiral’s inspection. Spock’s thoughts had turned to Kirk as he boarded the ship that had once been theirs, and then again as he briefly entered his - also once their - quarters, but otherwise he had been lost in a flurry of duty.

Kirk finally gave in to temptation, put down his largely untouched glass of the Romulan Ale that Dr. McCoy had brought, and closed his eyes so he could search the back of his mind for the part of Spock that was always there with him. It was distracted, dull and distant - had it really been that long since they last melded? Kirk tried to reach a little deeper. With the clumsiness of an untrained mind, he sought the warmth and affection that usually flowed through their bond, but had stemmed to a mere trickle, more easily lost than found.

_ Spock _ , Kirk attempted to call out.

At last, Spock’s mind acknowledged his amidst the usual torrent of thoughts that filled the half-Vulcan’s mind. For an instant, Kirk could see a nervous young cadet stammering out an explanation in front of some malfunctioning machinery, and then it was gone, shielded from sight.

Kirk let out a sigh and rubbed his tired eyes. Spock was busy enough without his bored bondmate bothering him.

A burst of bemused, quiet affection interrupted Kirk’s self-pity. He could picture Spock’s expression; an eyebrow quirked and a smile in his eyes. Spock had work to do, but they would see each other tomorrow. As Spock’s concentration turned back to his duties, he left the thought of his birthday present, “A Tale of Two Cities,” in the admiral’s mind.

Kirk probably needed the sleep, but he doubted he was going to get it. And there was something about the book that Spock was shielding from him, some message that Spock wanted him to read for himself. It was no intergalactic crisis, but it was more than enough to pique Kirk’s curiosity, especially when the only other thing he had to look forward to was another inspection.

So, the admiral picked up the book and opened it up to the first page. After a moment’s hesitation, he put on those damn reading glasses and began: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”

* * *

Spock died. When all seemed lost, he sacrificed himself to save the ship and the man he loved. James Kirk sacrificed everything - his career, his ship, even his son - to bring Spock back.

When the ancient ceremony reuniting Spock’s soul with his body was over, Spock faced him in long, white, hooded robes, so uncertain, but  _ alive _ , and he said, “Jim. Your name is Jim.” Spock couldn’t even remember his own name, but in that moment Kirk knew everything would be all right.

For three months, Kirk waited and watched from a distance as Spock was re-educated in the Vulcan way. At last Kirk and his loyal crew all agreed to return to Earth to face trial and judgement for their actions. Spock joined them to testify as a witness, but he still was not himself.

“Admiral, may I ask you a question?” Spock asked, his voice flat, his eyes wide and empty.

Kirk and Spock were crammed on a bus in the late 20th century, searching for a long-extinct species of whales. If they succeeded and managed to prevent Earth from being destroyed, Kirk would be tried and stripped of his rank anyway, but still, Spock insisted on the formality.

Again, Kirk protested, “Spock, don't call me Admiral. You used to call me Jim. Don't you remember? Jim.” But he knew it was a moot point and let Spock ask his question.

Of course, Dr. Gillian Taylor, the friendly, attractive cetacean biologist who might just be able to get them a pair of whales, noticed. Later, when it was just the two of them at dinner, she remarked, “Besides, I want to know why you travel around with that ditzy guy who knows that Gracie is pregnant and calls you 'Admiral'.”

_ “Captain. Even when he doesn't say it, he does,” _ Edith had said, something like forty five years ago from where he was standing, though for him it was closer to fifteen.

Gillian wasn't too different from Edith; intelligent, perceptive, and ready to fight for those hopeless causes that anyone else would have given up on. That's what he and Spock were these days, a hopeless cause.

When Spock used to call him “Captain,” it had almost been a term of endearment. It expressed loyalty and respect; a reminder that Spock would follow him anywhere. Those days, Spock saved his name for when they were in private or to reach Jim when nothing else could - as a dear friend instead of an officer.

But “Admiral” was something like a curse. It was a title Jim had never wanted that had brought him nothing good, spoken by the empty shell of his beloved as a reminder that Spock was no longer himself. He wondered what his wise, steady husband would have him do now, but he could hardly think over the gaping hole in his mind.

Something must have shocked Spock back into his usual demeanor after they crash landed in the San Francisco Bay, back in their own time, but Kirk knew better than to be fooled by the superficial return to normalcy.

Where there had once been unshakable implicit trust, now even the simplest order could not go without questioning. An invitation to join Kirk and Dr. McCoy on shore leave in Yosemite while Scotty attempted to repair their nearly inoperable ship was met with a petulantly contrary “Why?” - Spock teased, but without understanding what he was saying or what it meant, and when they were supposed to be relaxing he was as distant and formal as ever. Even when they were on leave, he was still reluctant to call the newly demoted captain by his name.

And then there was Sybok.

“He reminds me of someone I knew in my youth,” Spock said, but Kirk knew Spock - even when he wasn’t quite himself - better than to fall for that. Spock  _ remembered _ this Sybok when he still couldn’t remember to call Kirk by his name.

And Sybok was a Vulcan, an enlightened, emotional Vulcan who was probably everything Spock ever wanted to be, but couldn’t let himself. Of course he could control minds too; turn anyone to his side, probably using those “Vulcan mind tricks,” as Dr. McCoy would call them. He didn’t care much for Kirk - no, it was Spock that Sybok wanted. He wanted Kirk’s ship, his first officer, everything.

Kirk refused to go down without a fight, but when it came down to it, and his life was in Spock’s hands, Spock could barely pick up a weapon, let alone fire it. They were done for, all of them. Without Spock, Kirk didn’t have a chance, and in that moment Kirk  _ hated _ this shadow of his beloved first officer.

* * *

“Spock?” Sybok called for his brother to follow him down to the bridge and leave the deposed captain alone once and for all. And why would Spock refuse? Sybok had already done what no one else could, relieved Spock of the pain of never being quite good enough - Vulcan enough - that he had carried all his life.

But Spock replied, calm and steady as ever, “I cannot go with you.”

“Why not?” Sybok demanded.

“I belong here,” Spock said, and Kirk almost could not believe his ears.

It did not sink in until Kirk had been transported aboard the Klingon ship that saved him from the thing that called itself God. The Klingon ambassador introduced him to their “new gunner,” and finally it all seemed to fall into place.

“I thought I was going to die,” Kirk said, still shaken.

“Not possible,” Spock replied evenly. “You were never alone.”

He grabbed Spock -  _ his _ Spock - by the arms and would have been happy to never let go, but Spock was right, it wasn’t the place, and Kirk relinquished his hold on his first officer until they were safely back aboard the  _ Enterprise _ .

As the door to Kirk’s quarters closed behind them, Spock remarked, “Jim, might I remind you that we are no longer in front of the Klingons.”

A smile stretched across Jim’s face. His cheeks ached with the then unfamiliar expression, but he ignored it. He strode over to Spock and took him by the arms again. Their eyes met and Spock raised his eyebrows in an invitation; a teasing, “If you must.”

Jim leaned in and kissed him. Their lips pressed together, warm, soft, and so familiar. It felt like a thousand years had passed between them, not mere months, and Jim was overcome yet again with a desperate longing for everything they had so suddenly lost.

They slowly pulled away, though Jim kept both his hands on Spock’s arms, unwilling to let go. He could feel tears collecting in the corners of his eyes and could not meet Spock’s warm, concerned gaze.

Once he had collected himself a little, he said ruefully, “A far better thing I turned out to be.”

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done,” Spock replied, his voice even and calm. A trace of a smile teased at the corners of his lips.

Jim hazarded a glance up at Spock and shook his head. “I don’t deserve that, not after everything I said to you. I should have known better than to doubt you…” he trailed off.

“I have also not been myself for some time,” Spock acknowledged. “And I have caused you much pain, for which I sincerely apologize. I am aware you still suffer from the broken bond.”

Jim nodded. “It’s still there.”

“It is remarkable that it has not driven you to madness,” Spock said.

“I don’t know, sometimes it feels pretty close,” Jim said.

Spock held out a hand toward Jim’s face. “Please, allow me to ease the pain.”

Jim hesitated, but at last he gave in. “When have you ever needed permission?” he said with a wry smile.

“I do not intend to presume,” Spock answered, much too serious, but Jim would take what he could get.

Spock gently pressed his fingertips against the side of Jim’s face and Jim resisted the urge to lean into his soft palm. Spock did not say a word - they did not need the traditional litany - but they came together slowly. Jim felt the strange euphoria; his chest seemed to begin to rise toward the ceiling as though he was on the verge of falling asleep.

And then, instead of crashing back down into his body, he was drawn further, into a deep, warm embrace. A steady, calm affection began to soothe the open wound in the back of his mind, to fill the bottomless well of emptiness that threatened to drown him in the loss he had felt upon seeing Spock behind the glass all those months ago. The barrier between them seemed to melt away.

_ I am alive _ , Spock’s voice resonated in his mind with Vulcan certainty and human love and Jim wanted nothing more than to believe him.

Much too soon, Spock pulled away and the emptiness he had held at bay rushed back to fill the space he left behind. Jim wiped the tears from his eyes before meeting Spock's solid gaze.

“How did you get to be so wise?” Jim teased with a weak smile. “All I’ve managed to do is make a fool of myself.”

“You have done much more than that,” Spock replied. “For one, you successfully brought me back to life.”

Jim shook his head. “I was just a courier.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose in well-practiced skepticism. “Then you are the most dedicated courier in the galaxy.”

That drew a bit more of a smile out of Jim. “It was a very important delivery.”

“Still,” Spock said, his expression turned serious, “I would not have wished for you to sacrifice so much to make it.”

Jim frowned. He glanced away and then reluctantly met Spock’s gaze again. “I know. I didn’t really do it for you or for Bones. I just didn’t know what to do without you. I  _ need _ you.”

“I am sorry I put you through all of that. It was the only solution that occurred to me at the time.” Spock reached out for Jim’s hand almost without thinking. Jim released one of Spock’s arms to meet him halfway and brushed his first two fingers against Spock’s. Spock could feel the yawning emptiness in Jim’s mind that he would not have been able to shield even had he been a Vulcan.

“We must return to Earth now, but at the nearest opportunity, we may go to Vulcan and renew our bond,” Spock offered without releasing Jim’s hand.

Jim gave him a raw emotion-laden smile. “Yes, I’d like that,” he replied, his voice uneven. “And then we can go back to running around the galaxy like old times.” Spock could feel his boundless enthusiasm, but it was now tempered by a lick of fear.

Spock nodded and passed reassurance through their fingers. “Yes, I would likewise appreciate a return to normalcy.” A smile shone in his eyes.

_ May I? _ Jim asked through the link between their fingers.

Spock nodded in reply and Jim leaned in again to kiss him on the lips in the human way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every fic I’ve read about Spock getting his memories back conveniently ignores The Final Frontier, and with good reason - it’s a mess of a movie that takes Kirk to his lowest point of the entire series. But somewhere, buried deep in there, is a surprisingly reasonable plot about Kirk dealing with Spock not being himself, and eventually realizing that Spock is still there for him despite it all.
> 
> Instead of rewriting the entire movie, I just filled in some of the gaps, not only in The Final Frontier, but also in the movies leading up to it. Of all the movies, only The Search For Spock really showed what was going on with Kirk and Spock’s relationship - I was especially surprised how little Spock showed up in The Wrath of Khan before his very dramatic (in a good way) death.


	3. The Undiscovered Country

In a fit of rebellion they should have long since outgrown, they took the USS  _ Enterprise _ on a final cruise. As much as Captain James Kirk bitterly wanted to take his ship and just keep going, to explore as much as of the sector as they could and live out the remainder of his natural life span among the stars, he wasn’t the only one aboard. He owed it to his crew and the new crew that would take their place to return to Earth and retire with as much grace as he could muster.

They arrived in spacedock in the middle of ship’s night, and it was the wee hours of the morning by the time the entire crew had disembarked for what, for the senior officers, at least, would be their final shore leave. The captain stood alone on the darkened bridge watching the Earth roll by on the viewscreen, his hand on the back of the chair that was no longer his. He knew the others were waiting for him, but he could not bring himself to move and bring his final mission to a close.

The sound of the turbolift door sliding open jarred him out of his thoughts. He could feel Spock watching him, his own regret simmering just below the surface as he considered whether to interrupt the captain or leave him to his thoughts for just a moment longer. Kirk closed his eyes to focus on the place in the back of his mind where Spock always was and beckoned his First Officer forward.

Kirk could hear Spock’s even steps against the hard floor as he took his usual place behind the captain, to his right, standing at attention with his hands clasped behind his back. This was where they belonged.

“Last chance to take the helm and never look back,” Kirk said as lightly as he could with a weak, teary grin.

Spock quieted the reflexive logistical considerations -  _ a starship requires more than two people to operate, it would be dangerous, we would be caught, possibly imprisoned… _ \- and said aloud, his voice little more than a rough whisper, “Jim.”

Kirk twisted around to glance at Spock. The half-Vulcan’s face was set in a serious expression that could have been mistaken for stern, but his eyes told a much softer story of warmth and concern that echoed through their bond.

Kirk turned to face him properly, his attempt at a smile turned to a grimace. He let out a shaky sigh and shook his head. All of a sudden, he found it difficult to meet Spock’s eyes.

Kirk had just begun to consider suggesting they leave the bridge when Spock remarked, “This” -  _ by your side, on a starship very much like this one _ \- “was the first place where I felt I belonged.” He caught Kirk’s eyes with his firm, steady gaze and held it.  _ But it is not the last. _

Any words Kirk might have said caught in his throat.

_ You do not need to say anything _ , Spock insisted through their bond.

Still, Kirk eventually got out the words, “Thank you.”

“I am grateful to you,” Spock replied.

Kirk gave him a small smile and put a hand on Spock’s shoulder. Finally, he said, as his lips twitched down into a frown, “Standing around on the bridge forever isn’t going to change anyone’s mind.” He gestured toward the lift. “After you.”

Spock inclined his head and turned away to allow Kirk a moment to wipe his eyes.

* * *

The former starship captain James Kirk and his first officer, Mr. Spock, began the slow work of settling in to Jim’s - now their - apartment in San Francisco. They had few belongings to transfer, but making themselves comfortable on Earth was a challenge in and of itself.

Spock settled for the evening in his usual seat in front of the fire, savoring the dry heat and a mug of Vulcan tea as he caught up on the scientific progress he had missed while in space. Jim was reading one of his antique books, ostensibly, but Spock could feel him fighting to focus on the words in front of him. Discontent and quiet frustration radiated off of his bondmate, building up until it threatened to burst out.

Precisely on cue, Jim put the book aside with an overly forceful thud. He leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh that took with it the brunt of his anger, leaving behind dulled resentment and more insidious resigned defeat.

With steady, deliberate motions, Spock put aside his own reading and turned to face his bondmate, skeptical, but not unsympathetic.

Finally, Jim’s malaise congealed into words, “I don’t think I’ve felt young since the end of our first five year mission.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgement. He attempted to wade through his bondmate’s tangled emotions before finally he said gently, “Youth is not everything.”

Jim sighed again, letting out a little more steam, and leaned forward to face Spock properly. With a rueful smile he remarked, “Maybe you’re right - just look at you.” He gestured toward Spock for emphasis. “Maybe I’m just not meant for old age.”

Spock’s expression fell hard; he did not bother to hide his disagreement. “I would not prefer the alternative,” he said sharply.

Jim’s eyes widened as he realized what he had said. “Spock, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He held out a hand to his bondmate, his first two fingers outstretched in contrition.

Spock accepted the gesture and extended his own hand to meet Jim’s. Their fingers brushed together and Spock was struck with a storm of embroiled emotions that a brief contact alone could not begin to untangle - and yet Spock hesitated at the thought of a mind meld.

As they both pulled away, Jim gave Spock a wry smile. “I wouldn’t want to meld with me either.”

“Jim.” Spock held out a hand toward his bondmate’s face, angled to match his familiar psy points.

Jim’s smile softened, but Spock could still see the sadness in it. Finally, he admitted, “It’s almost a relief, being stuck on Earth again. I don’t know what to do with myself, but I don’t have to worry about you sacrificing yourself or spending the rest of my life on some god-forsaken planet. And then I wonder who I am and whatever happened to Captain James Kirk.”

“Our last mission was not an easy one,” Spock attempted, though he lowered his hand.

“But when have they ever been?” Jim retorted.

Jim’s fight faded as he felt Spock gathering the resolve to speak. He waited patiently, silently as Spock overcame his Vulcan upbringing and finally said, “I am also relieved that we are both out of danger.”

Jim’s face melted into a smile. “Remember, there were times on the  _ Enterprise _ we would have killed for some shore leave, or just some time together in a safe place without the rest of the crew?”

Spock nodded. “Yes, I recall a few such occasions.” His expression was as straight as ever, but there was a tentative teasing humor in his eyes. 

“We should make the best of it before the next crisis strikes and we have to cheat another unwinnable scenario.” There was some blind desperation behind his words - though they both knew the grim truth was that there was little way for either of them to cheat old age - but Jim gave Spock a wry, knowing grin that quelled his bondmate’s concerns at least for the moment.

Spock replied, “May I suggest a game of chess?”

“Mr. Spock, I thought you'd never ask.”

* * *

It was a beautiful day, as reluctant as Jim was to admit it. The sun was shining, the air was warm, but not too warm, with a gentle breeze and just a touch of humidity from the bay. Bones would say it was the perfect remedy for being stuck on a starship in the middle of a void. As much as it made Jim homesick for said starship and the starry void that surrounded it, he found it hard to be resentful as he ambled through a lush green park with Spock by his side.

He glanced over at his bondmate, bundled up for much colder weather by human standards, and still a little chilly. The mild humidity was heavy and cloying compared to the parched deserts of Vulcan, not that Spock would ever voice the complaint aloud. Jim shot him a smile and Spock savored it like Jim savored a breath of fresh air. The tension that had echoed through the bond since before their retirement was not gone, but for a little while it gave way to contentment.

Their hands hanging by their sides brushed together in a stolen kiss and they shared a burst of warm affection.

“Maybe the future isn’t so bad after all,” Jim remarked at last, though there was still something rueful in his smile. “I would have never thought peace with the Klingons was possible - I was there and I still can’t believe it - but for all my misgivings, I’m glad we’re not still at war with them, exchanging blows over distant outposts. Now we’ll have to figure out how to live with them, but that’s better than being at each other's throats.”

“I would be inclined to agree,” Spock acknowledged, not without a hint of disbelief that it even needed to be said.

“I know, you’re ahead of your time,” Jim said with a smile. “The rest of us are just catching up.”

Spock quirked a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Jim ignored the underlying suggestion that it should not have been such a feat, and instead mused, “What a time to be young. If we’re on good terms with the Klingons now, that means a whole new sector of space will be open for exploration. It almost makes me wish I hadn’t retired,” he said, but they both knew the “almost” was a lie.

Spock carefully prepared his response - something he had been meaning to bring up, but hadn’t yet found the right time to mention. Finally, he began, “Even if you are no longer commanding a starship, you do not necessarily have to be fully retired.”

“I’m not going back to commanding a console, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Jim retorted, though he doubted that was what Spock was actually getting at.

Spock’s eyebrows rose to suggest that Jim allow him to finish what he was saying before dismissing it outright.

Jim waved for him to continue with a silent apology.

“I found serving as an instructor at Starfleet Academy to be an edifying experience,” Spock explained. “I am certain they would be honored if you volunteered to lecture on your experience as a commanding officer, and though you would not be exploring the galaxy personally, you would be preparing those who will.”

Jim had an argument ready on the tip of his tongue, but it faltered as he considered Spock’s words. He relented, “Maybe you’re right. It would be better than resenting them for it.”

“Precisely,” Spock said.

Jim grinned at him, a warm open smile. He drifted closer to Spock as they walked so their arms gently bumped together. Spock did not move away.

“You’re a wise old man,” Jim teased.

“I have made my share of mistakes,” Spock replied, the young Vulcan, Velaris, at the front of his mind.

With Spock’s unspoken permission, Jim took the first two fingers of Spock’s hand in his own, so they were just barely touching as they walked, but their bond was open wide.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Jim insisted, thinking of the Klingons, and everything he had said to Spock while his bondmate was still regaining his memory, and the son he barely knew, and the list went on. But in that moment, even stronger than the remorse for his own mistakes was acceptance that they were both, after all, only human, and they still had time to improve themselves and make up for it all.

“I am not ‘only human,’” Spock corrected him.

“Vulcans make mistakes too,” Jim said with a smile, “As do half-Vulcans. But you’ve done a lot more good than bad.” He had championed peace when no one else did, saved the  _ Enterprise _ countless times, even at the cost of his own life, mentored cadets, made innumerable scientific discoveries, and even captained a ship of his own. And he stood by Captain James Kirk when no one else had, and gone far beyond the call of duty. Jim’s affection for his bondmate flooded through their linked fingers.

Spock took a moment to collect himself before he trusted himself to speak, “You have also done much more good than the sum of all your mistakes, and I am certain that you will continue to improve the lives of others, least of all my own.” Somehow, in Spock’s mind, all of the former captain’s myriad accomplishments seemed to pale in comparison to the kindness and acceptance he offered an isolated Human-Vulcan hybrid, born of two words but belonging to neither, who had been given a place at the captain’s side.

Jim glowed with love. He paused for just a moment to give Spock a quick peck on the lips and then returned to walking by his side with no one but the two of them any the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After such optimistic beginnings, the whole series ended on a very bleak note, which to me seemed to be a tragic thing in and of itself. I thought they deserved a little happiness, maybe some time to adjust to civilian life and start moving forward again (before the prologue of Generations, at least…).
> 
> This marks the end of Aging With Mistakes - for now... Thank you to everyone who has followed me on this long and at times tumultuous journey through Star Trek: The Original Series! Even though the series is (mostly) done, rest assured the journey is far from over - as always, I have many more stories that have been waiting in the wings!
> 
> EDIT: Ever since I first heard about Star Trek: Generations, I've been thinking of writing a fix-fic where Kirk survives, and now that I've finally seen the movie, I've done it! I am proud to present my take on [Generations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120987/chapters/52798864)!


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